


Dry

by BurningHue



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Big Dick Luther, Dont ask me I wrote this at 4am, Dry Sex, First Times, Happy ending (i guess?), Incest, Innocent Luther, Klaus centric, Klaus reads dirty books, Klaus shows Luther how to masturbate, M/M, Masturbation, Painful Sex, Reggie is completely dead inside after his children’s shenanigans, Reggie is sorta creepy, Reggie is supportive I guess?, a little angsty, klaus cries a lot, sex ed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:01:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,433
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21577993
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BurningHue/pseuds/BurningHue
Summary: The first time they have sex, Klaus wanted it, in fact he talked Luther into it. Luther was so sweet, innocent and touch starved that he agreed easily. Luther loved it but Klaus didn't.They do it again and again and Klaus keeps his mouth shut. He cries silently and never tells Luther how much it hurts or how much he bleeds when they are done. He never says a word, just grins and bears the sensation of being split in half.The fourth time it happens, they were caught by their father.
Relationships: Klaus Hargreeves/Luther Hargreeves
Comments: 4
Kudos: 128





	Dry

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this at 4am and my sleep cycle hates me now. As always let me know what you think :)

It started after their first lesson in sex Ed. After their mother had told them that they were going to start getting new urges and they are natural.

They are going through puberty.

He knew what she meant, he had read enough dirty books to know. Soon he'd get morning wood and soon he'd stay in the bathroom longer. Soon he'll get the urge to touch himself or rub against furniture.

He already had these urges.

He went to the attic, alone, and cracked the window open. A cold gust of air flutters down his skin and he unbuttoned his pants. He had the urge now, after seeing all the pictures his mother had shown him.

Lots and lots of pictures of boys and their dicks.

She was teaching anatomy but he hadn't heard a single word. All he could see was the shape, how long they were, how one differed from another. He wonders what they'd feel like inside of him.

He wonders how long he has to wait until he can try it. 

Sex.

He leans back against the wall and slides down as he pushes his pants and his boxers in a bunched up pile at his knees. He gently grasps himself, his dick twitches against his palm. He starts to stroke it, slowly, and as smoothly as he can.

Just enjoying himself.

He leans his head back and closes his eyes as he imagines someone touching him. A big hand wrapping around his smaller one, feeling the strength behind it. Then they'd move their hand up and down, fast, hard, he'd curl his toes against the carpet and bite his lips to contain moans.

He smiles to himself as he watches his fantasy play out in his mind.

Then the attic stairs creak and his eyes shoot open. Luther stares at him, wide-eyed.

He tenses up, embarrassment hitting him. He stops his movement and curls in on himself to try and obscure what he was doing.

"Oh I-" Luther stutters, his skin flush as he turns around and takes a step down. Just one, before he looks back to him with a weird glance.

Luther turns his body back to him and walks up the rest of the stairs. His steps are slow, nervous, and not calculated. His eyes are looking away from him but he still keeps coming.

He wraps a hand around his knees and pulls them tight to his chest. His heart beats erratically against his rib cage as his brother comes to him and stands in front of him before sitting down.

He stares at Luther.

Luther stares back, pink covering his cheeks as his hands' fiddle around. He sees the lump in his pants. Luther is hard.

He wants to tease him but he can't. He's still stuck on being self-conscious and rightfully so. How long was Luther watching? 

"What are you doing?" Luther asks, his voice sincere, low, almost sounds like he's self-conscious too.

"I...I think it's called masturbation," he says back sincerely, although it sounded terrible. He's never said that word out loud before.

"Oh."

He places his head against his knees and takes a deep breath. Calming his heart, calming his body. Everything is okay.

"Mom talked about...this before."

He nods, looking back up to see Luther rubbing his thighs. The lump in the middle is begging for attention. It receives none.

"It sounded...scary."

He snorts, he can't help it. He leans back and chuckles as his posture loosens. Luther is still Luther.

"It feels good," he says as his laughs die off. "You'll feel better if you do it-that looks painful," he gestures to bulge pressing hard against Luther's pants.

Luther fiddles with the buttons of his pants. "I don't know how," he says, his voice stays low. 

"I can show you," He says, slowly lowering his knees. "First you have to get out of those pants."

Luther slowly unbuttons his pants, his eyes trained on him. On his naked erection. He strokes it slowly, he's warming up to having an audience although some part of him is still unnerved.

"You're doing good," he says, letting his fingers circle the sensitive head.

Luther places his hand on himself, he does as Klaus does and immediately hisses from the relief. He closes his eyes, moving his hand up and down as a small bead of precum appears.

He smiles, watching Luther come undone. His chest contracting as he pants and he stares half-lidded at him. 

He parts his lips and lets a few moans leave his throat. "How does it feel?"

"Good-so good."

He looks at Luther's hands. How they go up and down, how his fingers barely reach around its mass. It's big, Luther is big. He can't help but become focused on it.

He imagines riding it, like some of his dirty stories talk about. He imagines Luther licking his neck and playing with his chest. He imagines the noises it would make.

"Do you want to try sex?" He asks, his lust muddled mind gives him enough confidence to at least purpose the idea although he knows it won't go anywhere. Luther doesn't like boys, he likes pretty girls- like Allison.

"Sex?" Luther echos him, his movements stop, and he just stares. "With you?" He asks afterward, leaning forward a little. "But we don't have a-" he stops for a minute and wracks his brain- "a condom! What if you got pregnant?"

His movements still too and he slams a hand off the floor. He laughs, can't help it really. Tears prick his eyes and he just crawls over to Luther and sits in his lap.

"I'm a boy idiot, I can't get pregnant."

"Oh..."

He smiles as he uses a hand to push off his boxers fully. "So do you want to?" He says in the sexiest voice he can manage although it probably doesn't come across as anything other than him having a dry throat.

It seems to work anyway because Luther nods. He wraps a hand around himself and steadies his dick.

He starts to lower himself, slowly, easing it in. The tip barely breeches him and it stings. He's being opened up and pain is being shot up his back with every second he's lowered.

"Ouch," he says, clenching his hands on Luther's shoulders. He doesn't understand why it hurts so much. They never say it hurts in the books he reads. They never say it stings or that it feels gross.

He tenses up.

Luther stops.

He huffs a breath and braces himself before lowering himself again. It's dry, it hurts, he's wanted this for so long, so why? Why does it hurt? Why does it feel like this?

Tears prick his eyes as he feels a spark of heat travel up his spine. It's bad, it's so bad, he's going to pass out. He swallows as his knees begin to tremble.

"Are you okay?" Luther chokes out, pleasure lacing its way through his voice.

"Fine," he lies because he's too proud to admit it hurts. He's wanted this, sex, for so long that he can't accept that it hurts. It gets better right? He just needs a little time.

He manages to take all of Luther, barely. His body is trembling as if it's about to stop functioning but Luther doesn't seem to notice.

Luther holds him tightly against him, moaning into his neck as he gives a few thrusts of his hips. Pain is all he feels.

He yelps before bitting on his lips to keep any more embarrassing sounds from leaving him. Tears flow down his cheek and dampen Luther's shirt but he just presses his face into it. 

It hurts but he has to bear through it.

It has to get better.

It has to.

Luther moves his hips in a circular motion, side to side, up and down, all the while spilling sounds of pleasure against him. Moans and hot pants are thrown against his skin and all he can do is cry.

He starts to feel pleasure when Luther's panting is more ragged, when his movements are more erratic. It only starts to feel good as Luther's dick twitches inside and he's coated in cum.

Luther pants into his neck, causing him to shiver. "It was great," Luther says, leaning back and lifting Klaus up, removing him.

Luther cleans himself up.

"Klaus?" He asks when he doesn't move to clean himself. "Are you okay?"

"I'm good," he whispers as he begins to put on his boxers. Cum runs down his leg and freezes against his skin. "It was good," he lies because Luther is so happy about it and he doesn't want to make it bad for him.

"We should do it again sometime," Luther says fast, excitingly, it reminds him of a dog. He nods as Luther gives him a hug. 

"I'll see you at dinner."

Luther begins to walk down the stairs.

He collapses on the floor and cries his eyes out. He sobs into his hands as his bottom stings. It hurts, he feels like he's going to die. That's the only way to describe the pain.

A small puddle of cum and blood form beneath him and he hates it. Why did it hurt so much? Why didn't it feel good like it was supposed to?

His dick is still erect, begging for attention, he pays it no mind.

————————————————————

Luther wants to do it often.

He lets him and he bears the pain that comes with it. He doesn't know why he doesn't speak up. Maybe it's because Luther is Number one, maybe it's because he suggested it, maybe it's because he just wants to like it.

It's not all pain. Now anyway, now that it's a regular thing, now that they've done it three times it's not as bad. It feels good halfway through and last time Luther even made sure to get him off too.

It wasn't bad.

It still hurt.

It still felt...unnatural.

He can live with it though.

In the attic with the window open, a cold draft blows around them as Luther moans against his neck. His hips moving, his hands around his back holding him against him, using him.

He cries silently as the sensation of tearing fills him. It's as if Luther is splitting him in half and he can't deal with it. He can't do this. He's going to die.

He just clenches a hand against Luther's back and lets his tears roll down his cheeks.

The attic door opens.

He pats Luther, quickly. He tries to remove himself but Luther just pulls him down. He's too caught in what they are doing.

"Luther!" He yelps as Luther pounds into him, harshly. A raw spot is hit and he hisses with pain. The tears roll down even heavier.

His father walks up the stairs painfully slow. His expression turning dark, his eyes furrow in anger, and his nose scrunched up in disgust.

"Number One!" His father yells, anger boiling underneath his skin.

Luther freezes all motions as he turns to their father in complete horror. 

“Father I-"

"What do you think you're doing to Four? Stop this at once! What is wrong with you?"

Luther is frozen, his hands are on his back and they are heavy. It hurts, his embrace hurts.

"I won't tolerate you raping-"

"I'm not raping him!" Luther interrupts their father, sputtering while his embrace loosens. "He wants it too, right? Tell him."

His cheeks are wet and his eyes are puffy. His vision blurs and he can barely make out the outline of his father. "I want it too," he mumbles, slurs more like, because he was so upset a moment ago. When Luther was moving inside and it hurt so much.

"Then why are you crying?"

He doesn't answer.

"Crying?" Luther echos, pushing him back so he can look at his face. At all the wet marks running down his cheeks. "What's wrong?" He says immediately, grasping him, accidentally moving inside.

He hisses and clenches his eyes shut.

"It’s painful."

Luther immediately looks upset, so upset. This is exactly why he stayed silent. "Hey, it's not your fault." He whispers, trying to comfort Luther.

Luther raises him up with ease and removes himself from inside of him. "Why didn't you tell me?" He asks, hurt lacing his voice. 

He looks down, away, unable to tell the truth.

"Painful?" His father echos and he looks up at him. For a moment he had forgotten he was there. "If you did the proper preparation it shouldn't hurt. How many fingers did you use? What did you use for lube?" 

He looks at his father like he's grown another head because he has. He is talking about things he's never heard of in his entire life.

"Did you use spit?" His father says once he scans the room and finds a lack of whatever he was talking about.

"For?" Luther asks the question he was wondering.

Their father looks at them, perplexed, before rubbing a hand over his forehead. "You didn't use lube?" He groans, talking to himself more than them.

They just stare back.

"Solitary," their father mutters after a moment, an exasperated sigh leaving his mouth.

They nod as they get dressed. They slip their clothes on while their father stands there. Eyes adverted but his mind still working.

He says nothing more.

————————————————————

"I'm really sorry," Luther says later that night, after three hours of solitary. "I didn't realize it hurt."

"It wasn't that bad."

"You cried!" He says, he grasps his hand before rubbing it. "I would have never if I realized. Sorry I'm an airhead."

He shakes his head, smiling. "It alright, I swear I had fun too." The floorboards outside the door creak. They go silent, staying deathly still in case it's their father.

They aren't supposed to have sleepovers.

There's a knock on the door and then footsteps start to leave. He gets up slowly, opening the door with caution. Only for the door to bump into something, it makes a squishing sound as it falls over.

He picks it up, a bottle of oil. He picks up the white card underneath it. The only thing written on it is LUBE in big capital letters. He flashes it at Luther.

Luther blushes as he realizes what it is.

He holds it in his hand, smiling, his bottom burning with each moment he’s on his feet. He wonders if this stuff will really make it feel better.

They'll have to test it, together.


End file.
